#and carrying shopping bags for all his friends

[phantomskeep]

Putting the "Fun" Back In "Funeral" Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter Three --- Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Gotham's One-Stop Shop For Villainy The first thing Danny noticed about this dimension was it smelled. A polluted haze hung heavy over the sky, casting the urban jungle in a dark mist and assaulting the halfa’s nose with the sharp tang of gasoline. Loud big-city sounds filled his ears as he caught himself in the midst of his free-fall, leaving the man distorted. It was so much different compared to his Keep in the Zone. To be pulled from a place of near-constant quiet into a realm full of honking horns, shouts and sirens was enough to have Danny reel his aura back in. The ambient ectoplasm around him felt sticky, and wrong, like the very air around Danny had been contaminated by something dark and sinister. He pulled his atmospheric spirit back, tugging where he could feel all the tiny little souls around him closer to himself. Bit by bit, his range of feelings depleted until he almost couldn’t feel the filth that surrounded him. Small pants left his lungs by the time Danny could only feel a tiny circle around himself that pulsed with his aura as he tried to keep a lid on his powers that desperately wanted to run free.

Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of not sensing the people around him, as well as the general unclean feeling of touching such disgusting ectoplasm, Danny spun in a small circle to try and get his bearings. The portal created by the Skeleton Key left him hovering over an old clocktower bathed in the haze of the city. Looking around proved to be near-futile, because even with his superior sight, Danny could barely see the street from where he floated.

The young man shifted the bags thrown over his shoulder, nervously looking around while trying to catch his breath. Clockwork had said his friend would be waiting for him, so where…?

“Hello, my King.”

A feminine voice caused Danny to startle, turning quickly to face the ghost that snuck up on him. The being before him reminded Danny of Shadow, almost. Their form was pitch black against the backdrop of the Victorian clocktower, constantly moving and shifting like a wispy fire. Piercing red eyes bore into him, causing him to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Danny spoke slowly. “Are you the one Clockwork told me about? The Spirit of Gotham?”

The ghost chuckled softly, moving their wispy form closer to Danny. A belated wisp of cold air worked its way out of his throat, letting him know another of the Realms was close. “I am, young King. You may call me Lady Gotham, the protector of this city.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.” He said, remembering the many hours he spent with Pandora and Dorathea drilling the proper mannerisms into his thick skull. Danny bowed at the waist, ignoring how the two bags he carried knocked against his knees. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain and protections. I will treat your lair as my own– with the utmost kindness, respect, and haunting that should be given to any member of the Realms.”

“I accept your gratitudes and give my own, King Phantom.” Lady Gotham’s voice was steady when she spoke the traditional greetings of the Zone, unlike Danny’s own unsteady cadence. Danny rose from his bow to see the other’s form in her own imitation of a respectful stance. After a beat, she rose from it to meet his eyes again.

The young king grinned at the shifting shadow in front of him, allowing excitement-nice to meet you to leave the tight leash he had on his aura to tentatively brush against Lady Gotham. A little trill of happiness left his core at the tender hello-nice to meet you-calm that caressed the small bubble Danny had created.

“Come, Little One,” Gotham spoke gently. “Clockwork has left you in my care until your tasks are complete. The ones who are mine have prepared an area for you while you are under my protection. We will head there and I will teach you the cultures of this dimension. Is this acceptable, King Phantom?”

“More than, Lady Gotham.” Danny continued to smile at his new guardian. “But, please, call me Danny. Or Phantom. Just- just none of that king stuff, please.”

A quiet chuckle emitted from the shadow before him. “As you wish, Danny. If we are being informal, feel free to call me Gotham.” She paused, swiveling the area where her eyes rested around to face to her left. The movements reminded Danny of the character No-Face from Spirited Away, a heavy swing of herself in a dramatic full-body maneuver. “We must head north to reach the lair I have created for you, Little One.”

“Lead the way, Lady G!”

The flight over was a quick one, with Danny’s ghostly guide fading from the visible spectrum before taking off. Danny followed suit, taking care to keep Gotham in his tiny bubble. As they traveled, he strained himself to see through the muggy haze that encompassed Gotham’s city. They passed large, towering skyscrapers with flashy signs, massive highways filled to the brim with cars, and Danny could barely make out dark water when they passed over a bridge. There were no immediate outstanding differences between his home dimension and this one. So far everything seemed pretty normal, besides the slimy feeling tingling on the edges of his senses.

From the past couple experiences Danny had with time travel and multiverse hopping, the man was expecting to see something like flying cars or gravity-defying structures. But everything seemed almost normal. Maybe this world wasn’t one of those crazy superhuman filled ones like the one Kitty and Johnny told him stories of. Apparently, their home dimension was pretty wild.

Danny almost lost his ghostly companion when she led him across a wide-open area filled with plants, though he caught up with her when she began to head slightly to the left. They passed more towers, more open areas with the faint sounds of cresting waves against land, until Gotham finally began to slow down.

“This part of my city is called Cherry Hills,” she said as the two ghosts hovered over the city’s buildings. “Many of the areas to the northeastern side of this section are used as housing, the western as warehouses, and the southeastern as workspaces or labs.” The older being began to gently fly further north, slowly leading them closer to the buildings.

As the structures pulled into view, Danny took in the sights before him. A large highway cut through the housing district, and he could easily make out the far-off sight of warehouses leading to docks where a handful of large ships were tied up. A freight train’s blaring horn was accompanied by the flashes of light as it cut through the city’s haze. The raised railings of a metro train track ran alongside the highway. As they continued north, the housing buildings started to look more worn-down, less like their shiny brethren on the east side of the carpath.

“Is this the area I’m going to be living in?” Danny questioned after a while. He wasn’t too concerned about the state of the building he would be occupying - he (kind of) survived the Fenton household for eighteen years, after all -, but the shock of being in a large city was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Yes,” Lady Gotham said as she began to hover over one of the taller residential complexes. “This is the one.”

With that, Danny could only helplessly follow where he could feel her plummeting through the building’s roof. When he crossed the barrier, he let his invisibility go to match Gotham. Her shadowed form lazed within the large studio’s space, letting herself barely brush against the floor.

“Welcome to your new home, Little One.” Gotham swirled closer to him, the edges of her emotions pressing against him in a soothing tone of welcome-this is yours-take it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

An awed breath left Danny as he slowly turned to truly take in the studio apartment he was presented with. The ceilings were high, with one side tilted at an angle to run alongside the roof. Two large windows let the hazy day’s light peak through the panes, washing the area with a gentle glow. A nice-looking kitchen occupied the space’s far corner, and Danny was only a little disappointed to note it would probably not see much use. An open area was broken up with a sturdy kitchen table sitting innocently next to another large window. The corner along the same wall as the kitchen area ran into a cozy-looking living room area, an elevator space acting as a barrier to the adjacent corner.

Danny was a bit perplexed to note that scattered lab equipment filled that space. Did Clockwork tell Gotham that he was a mad scientist or something? But Danny moved on to take in the staircase leading up to an open L-shaped platform. Floating up, he found a cozy-looking king bed greeted him, along with a computer set-up that would have made Tucker drool. He excitedly noted a window with access to a balcony with stairs leading onto the top of the roof was attached to the same wall perpendicular to the one his bed was against.

The young king zoomed next to Gotham, a large smile on his face. “This is awesome! How the heck did you get this all set up?”

An easy chuckle left the other ghost’s form, gentle emotions swaying between the two as they continued to get used to the other. “The people of my city don’t often question when mysterious jobs line up for them. It is part of their culture to not ask too many questions, after all.”

“That’s…” Danny paused, trying in vain to find the morally correct words without offending his host. “Interesting?”

A rumbling purr filled the air, Gotham letting a gentle pulse of amusement ripple against her king. “Interesting is certainly a word for it. Do not fret, Little One, no harm comes to them.”

The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that his worries were so easily spotted by the older ghost. He wasn’t quite used to having anyone other than the Ancients or his friends read him with such ease - having another do so, even if she was a ghost and Clockwork’s friend, was unusual for Danny. It made him wonder what type of relationship she had with Clockwork, as he had never before seen or even heard of Gotham before now. Before he could question her, though, she swiftly spoke.

“Before we get too distracted, I must inform you of this dimension.” She shifted her way behind where Danny was hovering, seeming to herd him towards his new couch. “Sit, sit. There is no need to be uncomfortable for such a conversation.”

“Wait,” Danny protested. “Let me put my stuff down real quick.” Without waiting for a response, he zipped up to his new bed. Dropping his duffle and Clockwork’s satchel onto the plain blue bed sheet before rummaging around for the journal gifted to him. When he finally found it, the young man flew back to the simple pale couch where Gotham waited.

It was an odd sight to see. A giant, angry looking cloud of smog hovering like an exasperated parent in a picture-perfect looking home.

“Okay,” Danny started as he landed on the surprisingly comfortable couch. He leaned back, relaxing against soft cushions, as he let his transformation wash over himself. “So what do I need to know?”

Surprise rippled across the air at the sight of Danny’s flashy shift, but Gotham was composed when she spoke. “From what Clockwork has told me, you come from a dimension where you are one of three beings who are more than human?”

Giving a small nod, Danny felt like his chest would explode from the hope-excitement-trepidation at what Gotham was implying. “Are you saying there’s, like, people with powers here?!”

“Indeed,” Gotham agreed, her voice lifting at the other’s obvious excitement. “There are metahumans, those with the meta-gene, who are humans with various powers. Others include humans who have been experimented on, had accidents, know the magical arts, or even been subjected to ancient powers. Aliens have begun to call this Earth home, as well. This includes those from Mars, Krypton, Thanegar, Tamaran…” She trailed off, staring at Danny who was physically vibrating. “My king, are you okay?”

“There’s aliens?” He whispered. “You guys have aliens?!”

“Yes, many of them-”

“Holy fucking shit,” Danny jumped up, coming to eye level with a startled Gotham. “Can I meet them?! Can I visit their planets? How many are there, what do they look like, do they have powers?!” The young man was trying to grab onto something in order to steady himself, but his hands kept passing through Gotham’s smokey form. “Lady G, please tell me I can meet them. Please, I will literally die again if I can’t meet actual people who live in space.”

A happy laugh echoed across the apartment’s space, the City Spirit being the source of it. “You are certainly excited about this, Little One.”

“Of course!” He exclaimed, waving his noodle arms around. “Space is so cool, G. It’s the greatest thing ever, I love it! I’ve always wanted to explore it, ever since I was a kid.”

“Well, you will be glad to hear that meeting the aliens who call Earth home is something you will be able to do.”

“Do any of them live here? In your city?”

“No,” She said, moving her eyes to look out the large windows gracing the two with a hazy glow. “The Dark Knight, a man who helps protect my lair, does not allow ones with powers to operate within me.”

A curious expression overtook Danny. His excited movements slowed to a halt, and he regarded Gotham with a critical, glowing eye. “Do you want me to take care of him, Lady Gotham?”

Calm-do not worry-amusement gently brushed against Danny, causing him to relax. “As much as I appreciate your protection, Little One,” Gotham said as she faced her king. “The Batman has this rule for good reasons, ones that I agree with.”

Danny’s metaphorical hackles lowered at Gotham’s comment. The piercing neon green of his eyes bled back into their usual icy blue, though the curious look did not leave. “Why’s that? And who names their kid Batman?”

Part of the City Spirit’s dark cloud tried to nudge him back towards his couch. “The Batman,” she began, “is a hero who operates to protect my city. He was born here and donned his cape in order to help those in need from the many criminals who call my territory home.”

Danny gave an involuntary awed noise. “So you guys have heroes here, too?” A dark tendril of smog wrapped around the back of the couch, resting gently against Danny’s neck.

The idea of having other heroes around was something that greatly appealed to Danny. Being the lone super-powered protector of Amity Park for so long took its toll on the young man, even with his human companions. It just wasn’t the same, being the only one with advanced abilities. He had to take the bigger hits, he had to be the one to save his friends if they got into too great of a bind, he had to be the one to try and take on the burden of Amity Park alone when they all went off to find their place in the world. With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And being the Ghost King? Well, Danny had more than enough “great power” to spare.

The thought was just as sobering as it was exciting. Other heroes, super or not, meant that there was something to have caused those heroes to come into play. Some great villain, or a world-ending disaster, or even large crime rates. Lady Gotham only said criminals, though, so maybe there were no supervillains Danny needed to worry about.

“Yes. In fact, there is a large society of both heroes and villains.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

“But many of the aliens you were so excited to hear about are among those heroes.” Gotham continued, not noticing Danny’s sudden mid-afterlife crisis. “There is the Batman, who is one of the founders of the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and many others are all part of this superhero society - the Justice League.”

“Okay,” Danny was desperately trying to keep up with this sudden information. “So, Batman is a super-powered dude who helped to start an entire squad of superheroes?”

“He has no powers. The Dark Knight is just a man, same with Green Arrow and many others. They simply are able to keep up with the aliens, gods, and metas.”

Danny paused, taking in a breath. He touched his fingers together, pressing his palms flat. Another breath was taken, this one deeper than the last. With every ounce of teenage angst he still had within him, Danny lifted his hands up together to rest against his forehead before bringing them down in an arch that would have made Sam proud. “What the fuck.”

A laugh rolled from Gotham’s form, his guardian sneakily tightening her protective hold on him. “What the fuck indeed, Little One.”

“Okay, okay-” Danny’s voice cracked with indignation, “So regular everyday humans fight supervillains and are able to keep up with gods? And super-powered aliens?”

“Yes.”

“And one of those humans - who named himself after a bat - is the sole protector of your lair? Besides yourself? And he doesn’t let any of his superhero friends help him?”

“I never said he worked alone. Though, for a long time he did not have any help.”

“Lady G,” Danny said again with exasperation. “I repeat: what the fuck.”

Her only response was to laugh at his expense as he continued to moan about how he couldn’t seem to escape crazy people, no matter what dimension he runs to. The space shared by two multi-dimensional beings filled with an easy warmth.

“So,” Danny started after a couple minutes of his grumbling. “Superpowered people aren’t allowed in your city because one of your protectors is just a man in a… What, fursuit? A crime-fighting fursuit?” He paused, considering, before rapidly moving on. “But there are super-powered people in this dimension who are also heroes.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

The young man took a second, silently thinking, before speaking again. “Okay, okay,” He started. “And the chances that I’m going to have to just… steal all of these ghostly artifacts is pretty high, right?”

“Again, you are correct.”

“So,” Danny said, stretching out the word. “Chances are they’re going to think I’m some sort of villain.”

Gotham made a noise akin to two cars scraping against each other as she hesitated to answer. “There is a chance of that, yes.”

“Great,” he bemoaned, bonelessly flopping around his couch. “Guess it’s time to pull out the ol’ acting shoes. Welcome to Danny’s One-Stop Shop for Villainy.”

Foreign emotions rubbed against the sulking man’s aura, the City Spirit’s feelings of do not fret-all is well-I will protect you soothing Danny’s temperament. “There is no need for all of that, Little King.” When their eyes met, Gotham’s form had smoothed into a rolling fog compared to her usual flaking fire. “If all else fails, you can learn to have some fun with it. Many of the heroes and villains of this world have… gimmicks, if you would, for their respective personas.”

A critical eye was shot to the other ghost. “What do you mean by that? My ghost form’s already pretty gimmicky.”

“But,” she said. “You can always take it to the next level. I would suggest you do some research on the various powers who live within my city as well as this world. You may find some inspiration.” She paused before speaking with a teasing tone. “I also believe that Clockwork told you to blend in? Maybe a name like Inviso-bill would fit right in with the likes of Condiment King and Kiteman.”

“Absolutely not!” He screeched, waving his hands wildly as he bared his teeth. “How do you even know about that?!”

A purr echoed from Gotham’s chest, so fierce Danny could feel it vibrating his own core. “I have my ways, Little One.”

“Fucking cryptic geezers,” Danny sullenly mumbled as he pouted. “I don’t even know where I could get an outfit for stealing stuff, anyways.”

“Were you not planning on doing it in your more ghostly form?”

He stopped, eyeballing Gotham’s face area with a critical eye. The other was facing him, though more of her wispy form had started to curl around his shoulders like a lazy cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. “I thought using powers in your city was a no-no?”

“That does not mean you cannot use your other form,” Gotham’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “You just will not be able to use your powers in an obvious way. It would help to protect your identity, and I know that you know the risks of not being in one of your forms for too long. Clockwork, at the very least, informed me to help you keep track of your health.”

Danny grumbled a bit, remembering the last lecture he endured from Frostbite about his general health. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t I just use my ghost form as is, then?”

“I would not recommend it.”

“Why’s that?” Danny inquired.

Gotham huffed, “Because, quite frankly, there are magic users who know about your coronation. Any being with ties to death - through magic or dying or any other way - heard the Song of Ancients as you took the crown. It will not take long for your influence over the Realms to reach here, and when that occurs they will know.”

“And then the jig is up?”

“Yes, then the ‘jig is up’.”

A loud groan left him, frustration causing Danny to get up and pace. “So, what? I just go around and snatch everything while invisible? Or in the Kingly gear? ‘Cause I don’t think my HAZMAT is the kind of gimmick you’re thinking of. Besides, wouldn’t either form just give everything away from the get-go?”

When Gotham didn’t respond, the young man turned to face her. The City Spirit was staring at him, not saying anything.

“What?” He finally asked when he couldn’t stand it.

“You can change the outfit of your form.” She stated. “Did you not know this?”

Danny nodded his head, “I mean, yeah, I swapped from the robes to my HAZMAT earlier - but I don’t even know how to start on an entirely new outfit!”

The older ghost let out a quiet laugh, “Do not fret, Little One. I can teach you how to alter your form.”

“Can you change yours?” The young man asked, curious. He knew Amorpho could shapeshift and that often a ghost could generally alter their appearance, but he didn’t think he would be able to alter his own.

“I used to be able to,” grief rolled off Gotham in waves, the intensity of it staggering. A dark cloud seemed to roll over the city, the weak light bleeding through the loft’s windows almost completely disappearing. “It was a long, long time ago that I was last able to.”

Danny reached out, letting apologies-you’re okay-I’m okay-we’re safe tentatively brush against his companion’s anguish. “Well, maybe we can figure out how to get you to change forms again. I’ll do some nosying around and figure out the best way to blend in so I can snatch some fun stuff.”

A thankful emotion poked through Gotham’s grief as she agreed with the young man before her. “Until then,” she started. “It might be a good idea for you to settle some more. I need to rest before attempting to mentor you through something as draining as altering yourself.”

“Alright,” Danny easily agreed. “Should I stay in here while you do that, or is it a good idea for me to roam around a bit?”

Gotham paused, considering. “You should be fine to wander, though I would suggest spending time familiarizing yourself with my occupants beforehand.”

“Gotcha,” he gave his new friend a small smile. “Thank you, again, for helping me with this. I really do appreciate it, Lady Gotham.”

“But of course,” she said in a tone full of fondness. “Clockwork has spoken highly of you throughout the years. I am pleased to see his judgment was not misguided.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re pretty chill.” Danny happily moved closer to the City Spirit.

If Gotham had a physical mouth, Danny would bet that she was smiling at him when she spoke. “I will leave you to it, then. If you are in need of anything simply flare your aura. I will feel it, no matter where you are.”

“You got it, Lady G.”

And with that, the Spirit of Gotham faded from the visible spectrum. Danny felt her slip out of his aura’s bubble and he was suddenly alone in a completely new dimension. Which was, apparently, full of superheroes, supervillains, and everything in between. When the young man began walking up the stairs to where his computer was set up, the only thing on his mind was figuring out where Clockwork’s list of artifacts were and which hero he was going to look up first. That Batman dude sure sounded like a good place to start.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

The sheer amount of non-earthly beings that occupied this dimension’s earth was crazy. That was the conclusion that Danny came to hours after Gotham had left him.

It took flipping through old news channels, trolling internet forums, random fan blogs, and even watching a few interviews of various heroes for Danny to get a vague grasp of this new reality. There were some heroes that he couldn’t get a full view of - the Batman being one of them. All he could find were grainy photos of the hero and hints that he wasn’t the only vigilante in the city.

Which would make Danny’s job a bit harder.

During his deep dive into this dimension’s cultures, Danny flipped through the little journal Clockwork had gifted him. His mentor’s steady handwriting listed out the various artifacts he was going to need to find as well as their general location. Many of those artifacts, after using his shiny new high-tech computer to look them up, were located in public places or stored in secret, secure facilities. Yoinking the public ones wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Danny - his abilities would make it rather easy to avoid detection, after all - but he had no idea what a “Fortress of Solitude” was. Or even something as vague as “The Watchtower”. Seriously, some of these places sounded weird.

But others had cities listed out. Star City was obviously a town, he knew where Gotham was (duh), and even places like Themyscira were easy enough to Google. It was with this brilliant deduction that led Danny to believe some of the weirder names weren’t attached to a city at all which was rather worrying.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who asked) Clockwork wasn’t one to steer Danny in a direction the old ghost knew wouldn’t work out. So with a healthy dose of blind faith, Danny chose to focus on whatever artifacts he could easily access for now. This meant Danny spent a decent amount of time casually scrolling through museum articles, even more blogs, and whatever else he could get his grubby little hands on. Honestly, it made the Ghost King feel like he was back in highschool trying to desperately write an entire research essay the day it was due.

The first item on Danny’s newly named “List of Shit I Need to Steal” was an item called the Hand of Greed. According to the Gotham Museum of Natural History’s website, the Hand of Greed was a statuette found in an Ancient Greek city. There were some general facts about when it was found, who discovered it, and how it came into the Museum’s care. The Wikipedia page elaborated more on the lore behind the dark statuette, though.

According to random people on the internet, the Hand of Greed had been found by Ancient Greek farmers after a lightning storm in a graveyard. There was more than a few forums debating on what caused the storm, where the hand came from, and even some people arguing that everything about the Hand was made-up. The forums then led Danny to a dead end - nothing had ever been formally concluded about the relic’s origins. It frustrated Danny a little bit. He wanted to be at least slightly more prepared for his first ever consensual heist. The half-ghost broke away from his hunched position over his desk, popping his back and yawning. The motions of this move caused his stomach to gurgle angrily, reminding Danny that eating was still something he had to do.

The young man stretched himself out, wiggling around his comfy office chair. “Guess I better get some food or something,” Danny mumbled to himself. His eyes didn’t move from where they were focused on his setup’s main monitor, where a picture of the strong fist carved out of black marble rested.

With a dramatic groan meant for no one but himself, Danny spun his chair around. He easily hefted himself off of the space, casually walking to where his duffle bag still rested. He rummaged around, grabbing his wallet before moseying his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t like Danny didn’t want to steal something, per se. As he smacked the “down” button, he considered the morality of taking something that did, technically, belong to him. It wasn’t like the people who found the statue knew it originated in the Ghost Zone - to them it was just an old statue with a weird story behind it.

The elevator arrived with a happy-sounding “ding!” and Danny stepped into the space as he fiddled with the bracelets resting on his wrist. He would have to make a plan to break into the museum, something the halfa was not looking forward to, especially with how little his research brought up. Reaching out, he poked the lobby button before resting his back against the stainless steel walls.

Maybe he could just go in invisibly? This Batman hero wouldn’t even be able to catch him if he never even appeared on camera, after all. It wasn’t like Danny had an identity in this world, anyways. Any hero would be hard-pressed to catch a ghost in the machine. The elevator stopped, doors opening with the same cheery noise.

But, even though Danny hated to admit it, he kind of wanted to meet the heroes of this dimension.

The young man continued to think about it as he walked out of the building’s lobby, not even taking note of the inside of it or the people loitering. Breathing in city smog, Danny pulled his beat-to-hell phone out of where it was resting in his khaki pants. He focused just enough to figure out where the closest convenience store was, slap a pin on his new home, and make his way in the general direction of where he needed to go.

Danny was honestly pretty surprised to see his phone worked. The shock of finding out that yes, his shitty phone did in fact apparently carry a multi-dimensional data plan, brought his attention to money. Lady Gotham didn’t really explain what forms of currency this dimension used, nor did he even consider looking that up.

Which he could solve right now, by using his phone that did somehow work. But where was the fun in that? He had to spice up his obviously too-boring life somehow. All else failed, he would just act like he was from a different country or something. There’s no way that could backfire on him - no siree, no backfiring here. And technically he wouldn’t be lying, either. It’s a win-win either way.

It was with these thoughts that Danny serenely entered a beat-up looking store with various ads decorating its windows. He had about twenty dollars in his pockets when he hopped dimensions, which would hopefully be enough to grab a sandwich or something.

Danny really, really hoped that the currency of this dimension was the same.

After the halfa snagged a decent looking chicken salad sandwich out of the store’s stacked fridges, he found it was at least similar enough to get him the food and a fountain drink. Danny took his change, thanked the cashier, and went back outside. The man leaned his back against cool glass and took out his phone to see how close the museum was to him. If nothing else, Danny could make his way to the place and do a little reconnaissance.

It seemed like something Jazz would want him to do, after all.

The GPS app on Danny’s phone showed him that the Museum of Natural History was down in Gotham’s University District, closer to where he first came into this dimension than where he was now. A forty minute drive by car, apparently, but the halfa was sure he would be able to fly there in under ten. With a small smirk, Danny stuffed his lunch into his mouth as he hurriedly searched for a decent alleyway to shift forms in.

Finding a decent spot proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The city was teeming with life - people spilling in and out of the streets and bustling across warm concrete as they went about their lives. It was after the fourth time Danny wandered into an empty-looking alley, only to find a shady deal going on, that he felt frustrated beyond belief.

It had never been this hard in Amity to find an unoccupied spot to swap to his ghost form in. The spaces between buildings almost never had other people in them, and even when there were all Danny had to do was make it to the next one over to be alone. Here, though, it was proving to be a larger task. People were everywhere and it was starting to get on the halfa’s nerves.

Danny didn’t miss home already, nope. He hadn’t even been in this dimension for twelve hours - he couldn’t break this early.

Finally, after spending way too much time trying to find a discrete area to die, Danny let his transformation sweep over himself. He faded away from the visible spectrum as soon as familiar rings of light sputtered out. He quickly shot to the sky, gazing down on the city below him with delight.

Yeah, it wasn’t Amity Park. There were people everywhere, it smelled horrible, and Danny could still feel the sticky ectoplasm of the city brushing against his aura.

But it was beautiful in its own way.

Towering skyscrapers outline the heart of the city in the distance, windows reflecting back what bits of sky peaked through the slowly lifting haze. Flashing lights rose from between the cramped buildings, washing Gotham’s people in hues of red and blue. The noise was a pleasant backdrop as Danny flew between the streets, a smile gracing his face.

He could see himself getting used to this.

Minutes passed as the halfa twirled between man-made structures, occasionally dropping down to listen to the various people as they went about their day. It was when Danny flew up to the top of a skyscraper, his whole being bursting with joy as he played in the sky, that he felt an angry pulse brush against his aura.

Startled, Danny hovered over the top of the office space. Warily, the young man sent back a questioning feeling - doing his best to keep his little bubble of safety. He was left waiting, anxiety slowly building the longer no ghost appeared on his senses.

Who had sent that? Danny wasn’t quite sure, but the only other ghost he had met in this dimension was Gotham. It had to have been her, but why was she angry?

His guess was proven correct when a black cloud rose from the edge of the skyscraper, sides flared like an avenging angel's wings. Startled, Danny dropped to the roof, taking a few steps back as his hands rose into a defensive position and his invisibility fell. Belated, a wispy breath left his mouth when the older ghost drew closer.

“My King,” Gotham’s angry voice crashed against Danny’s senses. Long gone were the soothing tones from earlier. In their place were sounds that made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise up, his senses screaming DANGER DANGER! “What did I tell you about using your abilities here?”

“I thought that was just for whenever I was stealing stuff!” Danny protested, trying to recall their conversation earlier. “I was just trying to scope out the museum - the Hand of Greed is something on Clockwork’s list.”

Gotham snarled, her form twisting angrily. “No, you shouldn’t be using any of your abilities. The risk is too great.”

Hesitating, Danny warred with himself. On one hand, he didn’t want to piss off his ghostly host on the first day he stayed with her. That was just bad manners, and he knew Pandora would be disappointed in him if he wasn’t polite. However, not being able to use his powers? Ever, as long as he was inside Gotham’s city? That was just too much to ask for, in his own opinion. Danny could understand not wanting him to use his powers to avoid Gotham’s protector’s wrath, but on a day-to-day basis?

Danny wasn’t too sure if he could do that. His powers were part of him and he thought he was finally going to a place where he wouldn’t have to hide who he was.

At the end of the day, though, Danny wasn’t one to try and piss off his allies. He had made too many enemies over the years to be okay with that.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gotham.” Danny spoke, trying to hide the frustration that had so quickly overtook his fear. “I won’t use my powers in your city - unless I am in my apartment.”

The spirit’s form shifted, considering. “Very well, I accept your apology.” She hesitated, for just a split-second, before continuing. “I think it is time we head back to your haunt, Little One. I still need to teach you how to shift forms and I want you to be prepared for when you meet my protectors in a few days.”

“A few days?” Danny asked, confused. That wasn’t his plan.

“Yes,” Gotham said. “Did you not want to get settled before attempting to lift the artifact?”

Danny shot a confident grin at the City Spirit, his eyes alight with mischief. “I know we just met and all, but did you really think I would do anything else?”

“No,” Gotham conceded. “I will do my best to aid you on your heist tonight, but please be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Danny sassed as he let his playful nature wash back over him. “Show me how to change my outfit?”

“As you wish, Little One.”

ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

Gotham’s setting sun cast an eerie, dark red light across Jason’s apartment. The rays washed over him, making it look like the man was stained with spilled blood. Dick had just set off with a cheery promise to see the other on patrol before slipping out the door, leaving his younger brother alone for the small amount of time it took for the sun to set. Soon, Gotham City would be cast into the darkness of night, with the city’s criminal elements slowly spilling onto the streets.

It was during the night that Jason always felt the most alive.

Before, when he was still living in a shitty Crime Alley apartment, it was because that was when Willis would go out. The arguments that came from him and Catherine would scare Jason more than the gunshots on the street. At least those were outside the safe walls of his home, but inside? To him, that was where the real danger lurked in the form of two angry adults.

Then, it was the streets. They had never been safe - but now that Jason was truly a part of them, he had to learn the tricks to stay alive. Part of that meant finding a safe place to squat, to wait out the evils that lurked in Gotham’s shadowed nights. The Bat was known for hunting and hurting criminals - something Willis had raged about more than once - and Jason was just a street rat who stole to survive. He had to stay alert during the lonely nights. Streets clouded in darkness just weren’t safe for a kid.

After the streets, it was being Robin. Fighting alongside Batman, helping give others hope and protection, and doing what he could to make his home just a little safer was like magic. He felt alive, freer than he ever had before that. It wasn’t just the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the thrill of leaping between rooftops, it was being able to help his home.

Jason was Gotham, born and bred in the darkest parts of the city’s heart. More than Bruce, or Dick, or even Babs could ever be - so of course he felt more alive in the comfort of night.

Then, he died, and being alive was never the same.

He was learning how to live with it, slowly but surely. The waves of green rage had originally helped Jason feel more alive, a little bit more sane while he struggled to figure out who he was. But even his own mind had betrayed him, at the end of the day. Basking in the pit rage had become an addiction, a high that he could use to finally feel again.

Within the past few months, Jason’s mind had been slowly coming down from the almost three-year stint of using the Lazarus Pit’s “gift” as a metaphorical emotional shield. It had been rough, trying to notice when it was the artificial rage whispering in his ear or his own emotions coming to the forefront.

Now, though? Oddly enough, even when Jason reached for the space he had learned the Pit coiled in, the green never threatened to take over. Throughout Dick’s impromptu forceful brotherly-bonding day, Jason hadn’t felt a single peep from the corner of his mind occupied by the unwanted side-effects of a green, gooey hot tub from Hell.

It was nice to be alone in his own mind again.

These thoughts raced around Jason’s mind as he went about the motions of getting ready for a normal patrol. It was odd, thinking the last patrol he had been on led him to the Batcave. Jason had been expecting to feel at least slightly off-center with the Pit Rage gone from its sulking corner. If anything, though, he felt more normal than he had in years.

As heavy kevlar fell to rest comfortably against Jason’s body, he noticed a bullet hole in the shoulder of his uniform. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he examined the damaged spot. That hadn’t been there the last time he donned his metaphorical cape, but Jason was pretty sure he would have noticed if he had been shot.

… He would ask Dick about it during patrol. Maybe that was how he ended up as high as a kitten on catnip?

Slipping his guns into their correct holsters, the young man snatched his bright red helmet from its hidden compartment. An almost feral grin danced across his face - the Red Hood coming out to play was always the highlight of Jason’s day.

When the sun had finished slowly sinking below the smog-filled horizon, Jason meandered down a stealthily hidden passageway to the secret bunker that housed most of Hood’s equipment. He was surprised to find his beloved hotrod-red bike parked in its usual spot – Jason figured he would have used one of his less-used bikes until he was able to get it from the Cave.

He didn’t think too long about it, though, as he grabbed the rest of his gear and dropped down onto the piece of machinery. A loud rev of the engine reverberated between the enclosed walls of his bunker as he pressed a button on one of the bike’s handlebars. Across from him, a large garage door slowly groaned to life. Jason kicked off from the ground, jumping into Gotham’s old tunnel system with practice ease.

The tunnels had originally been part of the Court of Owl’s underground hideouts, but after the Bat-family took down their operations, Red Hood had quickly laid a bright-red claim to them - including the bunker under his building. The tunnel system was near-perfect as it was. Some of it needed a bit of repairs and cleanup, but hidden ways to travel around the major points of Gotham with discreet access points was a resource Jason just couldn’t say no to.

It was through one of these openings that the Red Hood burst into the darkened streets, engine loudly announcing the start of Jason’s patrol to any bystanders who may be in earshot.

He quickly sped through the dimly lit streets, expertly navigating to one of the many areas Jason leaves his bike during the night. Today, he had decided, was going to just be an easy patrol. A nice little stroll through Crime Alley, maybe a stop at one of his favorite twenty-four hour hole in the walls, and then finishing up his night with a well-deserved bath.

With that in mind, the Red Hood grappled up to Gotham’s darkened rooftops, letting the city’s shadows envelope him in a cool, familiar embrace. Street lights flickered noisily, enhancing the darkened figures thrown across well-worn buildings. The great expanse of Gotham’s ever-changing skyline greeted the helmeted vigilante as he began his daily patrol across his home territory.

A thick layer of smog blocked the moon and stars from being seen by the millions of Gothamites, the haze from the day still lingering at the very edges of the giant city. The early spring breeze brought a light chill to the night, making Jason glad he had a layered uniform, unlike when he was a child strutting around in Dick’s old scaly panties.

He tapped the side of his helmet three times, turning on the communication unit built into its protective metals. A quiet chatter of his family greeted him and against his will, Jason felt his shoulders drop just a bit.

“-I’m saying that it’s obvious that Ivy and Harley are going to get married soon.” Dick’s voice was broken up by the sounds of wind sweeping across his speaker, small grunts echoing in Jason’s ear as his older brother danced across rooftops in a well-loved routine.

Stephanie’s response came with the usual hyper rush Jason has learned to associate with his fellow street kid. “And I’m saying that I think they’re going to wait a little longer. We all know how Ivy is about commitments.”

“But she and Harley have been dating for years. If the two of them can survive that tantrum Kiteman had a few months ago, then I think they’re pretty much set for life.”

“Quiet on the line.” Bruce’s gravelly tone was a bit of an unwelcome entry in the friendly banter, making Jason fight to contain the natural tensing of his body. He forced himself to relax, jumping from the roof of a crumbling apartment building and onto an old office building in a much similar state.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, B.” Dick let out a larger grunt, a fleshy sound accompanying it. “Hey guys, mind if I drop in? Seems like you’re all having the party of a lifetime.”

“Fighting on an open line?” Jason drawled, never one to not poke at Dick. “Watch out, Boy Wonder. Daddy-bat’s gonna ground you at this rate.” A single grunt was the only response Jason’s quip earned, making him sneer a bit under his protective hood.

Figures.

Before the gun-slinging vigilante could even get another word in, he heard the “ping” associated with Oracle dragging his communication unit down onto another line. “Hood, I’ve gotten reports of a gang break-in a few blocks from your location. Double back, it’s the building across from where you stored your bike.”

“Of course,” he groaned, but still dutifully skidded to a stop. Jason threw himself into sprinting back across the different roofs he had just parkoured his way over. “Any more information on the situation?”

“Negative.”

“Wonderful.”

It took him a few minutes, but soon Jason was back in the general area where he had started his night. “Is it the jewelers or the pawn shop?” Jason asked the quiet line, staring down at the littered streets.

“The jewelers,” Babs said. “Footage is showing four guys, their getaway driver is waiting outside near the back. Dark blue van. Best to proceed with the burglars then the driver, from what I can see.”

“Got it, going in now.”

“Good luck.”

The large vigilante dropped down in front of the store, scanning through the broken glass. He could barely see the four figures shoving anything they could grab into worn duffle bags. From what Jason could tell, none of them were armed – meaning he was quick to slip sneakily through the opening they had made when one’s back was turned. It was his odd hybrid training that allowed him to move so quickly and silently when his body mass was constantly working against him.

Hood snuck up behind a robber who was rooting around a now-broken glass case. The vigilante’s quiet movements served him well as he suddenly struck his arms out, grabbing the masked civilian around the throat. The man made an aborted shout, alerting his friends to the vigilante among their ranks as the Red Hood turned them around. Now with the thug between himself and his buddies, Jason tightened his forearm against the warm neck he held hostage.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jason’s modulated voice rippled over the thieves. “Surrender or you’ll end up like chucklefuck here.” With the end of his statement, he tightened his grip and swept the other man’s legs out from under him, Jason placing one of his own legs between to keep his prey unsteady.

The thief in his arms started babbling pleads as he desperately squirmed in Hood’s grasp. His friends cautiously lowered their bags, one even going as far as to show Jason his free hand.

“Easy now,” The one furthest from the door said. “We’re just tyin’ ta put food on t’ table.”

“That’s understandable,” The masked vigilante said in a tone laced with half-fake sympathy. “But there’s better ways to go around getting money than robbing stores. Surrender and I’m sure prison’ll teach ya’.”

“Yeah,” The far guy spoke up again. “Not gonna happen, cape.” With that, the dude kicked a heavy rock at Jason with surprising accuracy, forcing him to let go of the squirming criminal in his grasp. As much as Jason would be fine with the dude getting a concussion, he’s sure the other bats would not be so chill about it.

The thief that was caught in Jason’s grapple was busy running, trying to make an epic getaway. It gave Jason time to pull out his handgun and a warning shot was fired, putting a smoking hole into the floor in front of the fleeing robber. The man, to his credit, didn’t flinch at the loud noise and instead kept gunning for the exit where his friends were waiting for him.

With a curse, Jason realized a bit late that the three of them were almost at the door – which he noticed had been disarmed. He slipped his gun back into its rightful place before he raced after the three thieves. As they ran through the store, jumping over jewelry cases and feeling his boots slide across scattered glass shards dusting the floor like deadly fallen snow. The vigilante pulled out a bola set from where it was hanging on his utility belt, aimed as best he could while running, and threw it with terrifying accuracy towards the first criminal in the fleeing line.

The bolas caught on the robber’s legs, drawing them up short. With a panicked shout, the man went down like a live oak – with a heavy crash and shaking limbs. The two behind him stumbled to a frightened stop, obviously startled. Jason used those couple precious milliseconds to gain ground on the group, already planning his next move. A gloved hand reached back towards his belt, gripping onto his last bola set. By the time he was re-noticed by the criminals, he was mere feet away from the trio. One of them let out a surprised noise, fleeing the scene and leaving his friends behind. It was him that Jason aimed his bolas at, easily letting the capture weapon fly and snag the wayward robber.

The last one had been trying to help his friend out, on his knees with a knife frantically sawing through the rope binding his buddies’ legs. When Jason was close enough, he pulled the man up by the back of his jacket and punched him across the nose. The squirming criminals’s hands came up to clutch at the bruised cartilage and Jason slapped Bat-grade handcuffs across his wrists.

“Now,” Jason said as he dropped his prey. He turned to look at the other two, focusing on the man at his feet while the one in his hands squirmed around. “Maybe it’s nap-time for some naughty boys.”

“Let us go, Hood!” The man in his hands yelled, drawing Jason’s attention. “C’mon, man, we got families! Don’t throw us in jail!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided crime was your best option.” The helmeted man practically growled. “What would your family say if they found out this was the way you made your money? Huh?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Hood,” The man on the floor snarled.

“How about you shut up, huh?” Jason snapped, looming over the other. He dropped the handcuffed guy next to the one on the floor before manhandling the un-handcuffed guy around to turn him into a newly-minted handcuff guy. “Time to take care of your last pal, boys.” But when Jason lifted his head towards the exit of the darkened store, all he saw was his now-sawed bolas and a wide-open door. “Oh you have got to be shittin’ me.”

With a quick tap to his helmet, Hood rejoined the open line Gotham’s vigilantes used to alert when a crime was stopped as he ran through the open doorway. “Oracle, got two of the four. They’re locked up in cuffs, in pursuit of the others.”

“Noted,” Bab’s steady voice filled Jason’s ears. “I’ve got eyes on their get-away car and contacted GPD - so far they’re heading south through the Bowery.”

“Got it. Do I have time to grab my bike or am I using the Rooftop Express tonight?”

“Get the bike, they’re not slowing down.” Oracle paused for a split-second, no doubt cross-referencing the activities of all the vigilantes roaming the streets. “Red Robin will cut them off if they start heading east.”

Red Hood huffs as he spots his bike, having raced over from the now-destroyed shop. “Sounds good,” he started his bike with a deafening cry from the engine, adrenaline pumping through the ex-crime lord’s veins. It was odd, to be so excited for a chase and not feel r agerageragerage  in the far corners of his mind, threatening to cloud his thoughts with mindless violence. “Streets?”

As Oracle rattles off the street name Hood’s suspects are using to attempt to get away, the man uses his modified bike to its greatest potential. Weaving through traffic was something Jason was used to - it was as natural as grappling across rooftops for the young man. To slip between cars while traveling at high speeds was a rush he craved. Add in the hunt of criminals? Well, Jason was as happy as a Bat with a cold case.

When Jason spotted the criminal’s van, they were deep into the heart of Gotham. He had chased them through the Bowery, over the Robins Bridge. Gotham itself was a city made up of multiple islands - each broken up by different inlets bleeding into the Gotham Bay. Sprang River separated the northernmost parts of Gotham from the older parts of the city, like the Upper East Side, Diamond District, and University District. As soon as Barbara informed Jason that his suspects were heading through the Upper East Side, a plan started to formulate.

The Upper East side was broken into a grid pattern, much like how New York City was. If Jason could speed through the lesser-used streets parallel to 35th, then there was a chance he could cut them off. A quick one-handed pat down of his bike’s stylish saddlebags confirmed he had a set of tire spikes. Hidden under his hood, an excited smile grew.

“Hey, Oracle,” Jason cut off the red-headed wonder’s listing of streets. “I’m going to spike the van. What’s the traffic lookin’ like?”

There was a pause before a resigned sigh filtered through Red Hood���s helmet. “Traffic is mostly clear, they’re closing in on Robinson Park now. Best thing to do is try and get them in that area - it gives me time to stop traffic around there.”

“Perfect,” Hood purred as he pushed his bike faster, expertly weaving around the late-night commuters. In just a few minutes, Hood got the confirmation from Oracle that now was a good time to enact their plan. With a quick twist of his body, Jason’s bike dodged between skyscrapers as he burst onto the main road in the Upper East Side. The criminal’s van was just barely behind him and, having no time to maneuver, ended up driving over the spikes Red Hood threw into the road.

A pop and the eerie screeching of machinery enveloped Jason’s senses as his prey struggled to keep their getaway vehicle under control. When it finally crashed into a light pole, an odd quiet seemed to brush over the city. With an expert flick of his foot, Jason lowered his bike’s kickstand before stalking over to the smoking van. He brought a padded elbow up, smashing the window in a practiced move. As glass fell like a dangerous snow, he paused to take in the sight of the criminals before him.

The van’s airbags had deployed, leaving his two runaways unconscious in their seats. With a huff, the vigilante opened the driver’s door. He checked over the two thugs with practise ease, making sure there were no injuries he may need to know about before moving them out of their now-busted van.

“Got them, Oracle,” Hood said, pulling the two men out of the van. He set them a few feet away, zip-tying their hands and feet together. “Cops on their way?”

“They’ll be there in two minutes. Any chance you can pick up the spikes?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily, sauntering his way down the street. He could see the faraway headlights of cars heading his way as he rolled up the spikes. As the black-haired man secured them back into the saddlebags, he heard the distant sound of sirens.

“You best get a move on, Hood,” Oracle cautioned. Typing joined her speech, urgency picking up in her voice as she directed him. “Looks like there’s been a break-in at the History Museum. You’re the closest unoccupied.”

“Seriously?” Jason groused, hopping back onto his bike. He left the criminals in a trail of exhaust right as the Gotham Police Department showed up. The vague threats they made followed the Red Hood as he sped towards the University District. “You know I hate that place.”

“Well, sucks to suck. Batman and Robin are currently chasing down a lead on Penguin’s drug trade, otherwise I would send the two of them.”

Hood paused, his brain going to places he definitely did not want it going. “New lead or the one from yesterday?”

“New lead - Red Robin and Orphan picked it up while you were indisposed.” With a sigh, Hood parked his bike in a random alleyway, taking note of the streets near it. The large man grappled his way up to the roof of the building before starting to parkour his way towards the museum, grumbling the entire way.

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t want to stop a thief, or that he was embarrassed about being drugged the other day. No, it wasn’t that. A fight was something Jason pretty much welcomed every night he donned his guns and helmet. The museum was simply too full of times before. Before he had died, when things were just a bit easier. When it was just him, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. Back when he wore the scaly panties and hid in Batman’s cape. When banter and quips thrown at villains came easier to him, when he thought Batman would always be there to catch him when Jason fell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed about the museum since the last time he was there, six years ago, stopping Catwoman with Batman. From doing his best to ignore the flirting between his father mentor and the thief.

Now, instead of the hand-me-down Robin uniform, it was the Red Hood armor Jason wore to strike down a thief.

Jason’s musing cut off as he landed hard on the roof across from the museum. The vigilante rolled into a light jog, shaking off the pain racing through his knees. He could see the top of his targeted building, stopping at the edge of the rooftop he was occupying to try and get a better view.

He needed to figure out what caused the alarm to trip on the building in the first place. It didn’t seem like the type of area one of the usual Gotham Rogue Gallery would target for any occasion. Maybe Catwoman, but Jason didn’t know of any jewels in any exhibit that she would try to steal.

“Do you have any information on who might’ve broken in? I can’t think of anything Catwoman would try to get her hands on.” Jason asked as he kept a moving eye on the building across from him.

A thoughtful hum came from the other side of the transmission. “I’m looking at the CCTV footage now. The person who broke in is still inside, and appears to be wearing a dark, hooded outfit. White accents as well - whoever it is, they’re not one of our usuals.” 

Jason cocked his head, body lighting up with a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Roger, going in now. Might as well figure out who it is.” Aiming his grapple gun towards a secure part of the museum’s building, he triggered the mechanism with a satisfying pop and whirr. With an ease born from being a Bat, he jumped off the rooftop - soaring above the late-night foot traffic with a small thrill.

Oracle’s voice crackled as she spoke. “Hood, wait for at least one other to arrive before engaging. All CCTV footage is corrupted - this guy must’ve used a localized EMP of some sort, and depending on how strong it is, we might lose contact.”

“I thought the others were occupied?” The man questioned as he landed on top of the museum’s roof. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the space around him.

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was a building made up of pale stone. It had large, rectangular columns racing up the sides to form a grand entrance. The museum was split into four sections: the main part, and then three add-on sections that all intersected at the circular part of the building. While the roof was relatively flat, a massive glass dome rose from the main section with various skylights scattered around the add-ons. It may look cool but, as all the Gotham vigilantes knew, it created many escape routes for various villains to use. Without counting the many, many windows the building boasted.

“Batman and Robin are. Red Robin just finished up with a mugging and Nightwing is heading north. ETA is roughly ten minutes for each.”

Jason shook his head, creeping along the roof. “When did the break-in happen?”

Oracle paused, her silence speaking a thousand words. “About thirteen minutes ago.”

“So they’re probably finishing up grabbing whatever it is, already.” Red Hood kept his eyes out for any sign of break in, eyes expertly scanning the terrain around him.

“Assuming they’re as fast as Catwoman? Yes.”

Jason’s mouth opened to respond when movement through one of the northern add-on’s skylight caught his attention. The Hood hurried his way over, making sure to keep out of sight. As he got closer, static filled his ears. The noise was loud and startled the black-haired vigilante enough for him to quietly curse as he quickly moved to turn off the horrendous noise blasting through the casing covering his skull. Definitely a localized EMP, he thought as he settled next to the skylight to watch the thief.

While Jason typically had decent sight, through the glass he could only describe the person as whispy, almost like the window prevented him from having a clear view. He could barely make out a pitch-black cloak covering the person’s back as they lifted an object from its display pedestal.

Knowing time was running out and not wanting to let this new thief get away, Hood unlatched the skylight with a trick Batman taught him years ago - back when he was still learning the ropes of being Robin. Hooking his grapple claw onto the skylight’s edge, the ex-crime lord silently lowered himself down the large drop as quietly as he could. Even though there was next to no sound of the grapple’s mechanics and his landing was as quiet as an assassin’s, the thief’s head whipped around. Startled, glowing neon eyes met Hood’s through his helmet. Fear gripped Jason’s heart as unblinking Lazarus pools bore into his very soul.

I should’ve waited, Jason thought hysterically as the vigilante and thief stared at each other.

(((ꏿwꏿ;)))

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #fanfic #crossposted on ao3 #putting the fun back in funeral #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #jason todd #lady gotham #jason todd x danny phantom #danny phantom x jason todd #dead on main fic #it took me over a year to write this #but i did it!!! #take thAT DEPRESSION!!! #im so tired #time to nap now #nightnight #batpham

[toasttt11]

tipsy

May 23, 2024

Maddox laughed shaking his head at they walked into their hotel and Lukas was carrying Connor on his back and Alex pushing the two around, Maddox stood behind Lukas incase Connor is dropped and he does not want any of them injured.

Maddox opened the elevator for them all as they had just got back from spending the day catching up and walking around Prague and shopping around.

Connor having been playing in a different location than the rest of the boys for the first round of the tournament and Lukas being on his national team and Maddox and Alex being together. They did not have a lot of time to catch up and were use to spending most of their time together from the last season.

“Alright put him down.” Maddox chuckled watching as Lukas pretended to drop Connor and Connor gripped onto Lukas tighter laughing loudly.

Maddox was always glad that Connor felt comfortable around them to relax and be him self around them all.

“Yes Cap!” Lukas playfully saluted Maddox and gently put Connor down. Connor giggled slighty as he was set down and reluctantly let go of Lukas

Maddox fondly rolled his eyes as the elevator opened up to his floor, “Alright i’ll see you guys in the morning.” Maddox ruffled Connor and Lukas’s hair and waved at Connor and Lukas as he walked out with Alex following him.

Maddox, Alex, Connor and Lukas all having breakfast together in the morning with Trevor and Seth joining as well, making it a Blackhawks breakfast.

Maddox softly smiled seeing how close Connor and Lukas were standing to each other before walking away from the elevator.

Alex fist bumped Maddox, “See you tomorrow Mads.” Alex smiled lopsided at his best friend as they walked down the hallway of the hotel

“Night Lex.” Maddox said back and opened up his hotel room and dropped his shopping bags on the desk and slipped his shoes off and took his phone out of his pocket and smiled at the locker screen a picture of Trevor and Maddox hugging each other tightly on the ice after Trevor’s first goal as a Blackhawk.

Maddox stripped out of his clothes and hopped into the shower letting out a sigh of relief feeling the cold water hit him.

Maddox has never like the heat and tends to get overheated easily and needs either cold water or air conditioning.

Maddox took a pretty long shower just relaxing in the shower before he reluctantly got out and wrapped a towel around his waist walking out of the bathroom and heading to Trevor’s bag and grabbing a pair of his sweat shorts and threw them on not birthing to grab a shirt.

Maddox ruffled the towel over his wet hair before hanging it back up in the bathroom and grabbed his phone and flopped onto his bed.

Maddox was only on his phone for a few minutes before he heard the door unlocking and it opening revealing Trevor walking in, Maddox immediately noticed the rosy color on Trevor’s cheeks and silly smile he gets when he drinks especially wine.

“BABY!!!” Trevor loudly exclaimed giggling as he dropped his bags and hurried over and flopped onto his boyfriend.

Maddox grunted slighty as Trevor’s elbows dug into his hips but wrapped his arms around Trevor letting him lay on top of him.

“Hi my pretty boy.” Maddox softly mumbled brushing Trevor’s hair as he looked up at Maddox with a silly smile.

“I missed you.” Trevor pouted, he’s been spoiled of spending almost the whole day every day with Maddox since he got to Chicago that it’s been weird when he isn’t with Maddox.

“I missed you too.” Maddox leaned down softly kissed Trevor and Trevor happily hummed kissing him back before abruptly pulling away.

“What is this.” Trevor demanded glaring at Maddox as he sat up crossing his arms, he looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“What?” Maddox looked extremely confused and tried not to frown as his kiss was interrupted.

“Your hair.” Trevor whined dramatically pouting, “You showered without me!” Trevor exclaimed looking extremely betrayed.

Maddox tried not to laugh but he snickered slightly seeing Trevor so upset that he shower with out him.

Trevor absolutely loves showering with Maddox and now hates showering when it’s not with Maddox and is always trying to drag Maddox into the shower with him.

“I am sorry baby, i promise next time you’ll join me.” Maddox softly apologized and held out his hand towards Trevor.

Trevor still pouted but took Maddox’s hand never one to turn now Maddox affection, “You better.” Trevor flopped back down on to Maddox dramatically snd snuggled his head against Maddox’s bare chest.

“I promise.” Maddox let out a very fond laugh as he kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head. Maddox became more and more fond of Trevor’s dramatics every day.

“Did you have a good time?” Maddox asked softly as he helped Trevor kick off his shoes despite Trevor not getting up at all. Maddox just fondly rolled his eyes something he seems to always been doing because of Trevor specifically.

Trevor did spam Maddox photos and videos through out the whole day making Cole even more suspicious of the two but Maddox and Trevor talked about it already so Trevor told Cole they were dating but to keep a secret until they go back to Michigan to tell Maddox’s family, more specifically Jack.

Maddox also knew Luke was also getting suspicious of his relationship with Trevor now but Maddox knew Luke is patient enough to wait to say anything until Maddox brings it up.

“It was fun with Coley.” Trevor softly mumbled tired from the long day and very tipsy from all wine he drank.

“I’m glad.” Maddox gently rubbed Trevor’s back feeling him relax more and more, “Go to sleep baby.”

“I love you.” Trevor quietly mumbled to Maddox as he slowly closed his eyes and began falling asleep in Maddox’s arms.

“I love you too.” Maddox smiled lovingly back and pressed a kiss to sleepy Trevor’s forehead.

#maddox hughes au #mh22 #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x oc #luke hughes #luke hughes x oc #jack hughes #jack hughes x oc #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #nhl x oc #nhl au #alex vlasic x oc #alex vlasic #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard #lukas reichel #kevin korchinski #nhl blackhawks #chicago blackhawks #nick foligno #seth jones #frank nazar #cole caufield x oc #tampa bay lightning #ross colton #alex turcotte #chicago #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb

[hellsbelle999]

hello :D do you have any headcanons about the gang (if u need a specific character, then ponyboy) that you would like to share with the class >:)?

ty for being my first ask 🫶 !!

these aren't the best but hope yall enjoy nonetheless :-)

WC: 778 // not proofread

Pony:

I feel like he and Johnny are really into photography. They mostly show their pictures to each other rather than the rest of the gang, but will occasionally share what they're currently working on. when out and taking photos, they try to follow a specific theme - windows, people, trees - stuff like that.

Sometimes Ponyboy will ask Soda to take his film to be processed. If Sodapop sees a picture he really likes (usually of one of the gang since they hardly sit for photos purposely lol), he'll order an extra copy and will hang it up around the house.

Soda just thinks it's cute that pone takes pictures of everybody like that (so does Darry but he doesn't act like it, just silently thankful that someone's getting pictures of all of em)

Bro's gotta be bisexual fr

He's aware that he likes both guys and girls but doesn't question it much. Kinda nonchalant about it and wouldn't think it weird unless someone else said something.

Two-Bit:

Def steals little things for his mom and kid sister (and we love him for that)

Probably just stuff like makeup or a new doll - if he sees it and thinks they'll like it then he snags it right up, employees none the wiser

Partially motivated by him thinking he doesn't do enough for them and wants to make up for it

Since he doesn't have a job they're like hrmmm… ok.. But won't question it/confront him about it directly, just in passing sarcasm or jokes (but they know he stole it ofc)

His mom would come home from work, seeing Two's sister with a new toy or maybe a fresh loaf of bread and some jam on the counter, maybe a new lipstick on her nightstand

While she appreciates the trinkets, she wishes that he would contribute to the family a little more honestly...

Soda:

I imagine that he's really clean and cares for his personal hygiene a lot. Out of all of them, he smells the best lmao. Soda feels like his appearance is all he has going for him, and tries his best to keep up that reputation.

The week pony was missing he started slacking - missing showers, stopped combing his hair, and wore the same unkempt clothing as a result of the depression. All he wanted to do was lie in bed all day, but he had to keep carrying on, just barely.

Clearly this was way beyond his normal behavior and Darry and Steve tried getting him back on his normal routine (and failed).

He didn't freshen himself up until he read about pony in the newspaper, not wanting his kid brother to see him in that sorry state when he went to the hospital.

Darry:

Actually loves cats, but won’t admit it straight up lol.

He “finds” one on the street and decides to keep her. When asked about it, he just says they're easy to take care of so why not.

He loves how quiet and warm cats are, especially when he's reading the paper at the table before work, the house chilled by the morning's air.

Sometimes he'll fall asleep petting the kitty on his chest, leaned back in the recliner after a long day of work (lol such dad energy)

He accidentally teaches her to sit on his shoulders. Darry'd be making dinner or something and this scratchy old street cat would be sat atop his shoulder like a parrot, keeping a sure eye on whatever he's cooking.

Dal:

Slightly afraid of dogs.

He's fine with ones he's familiar with, like a friend's, but if he sees a stray on the street he's likely to hightail it outta there or walk as far away from it as possible

Random:

Before the wreck, I feel like the gang would go grocery shopping with Mrs Curtis 😭😭

Just imagine these scruffy lookin greasers trailing behind this completely unassuming lady. They definitely turn some heads, but the boys help her carry bags and such so she’s not complaining.

She knows they'll all be over for dinner at least one point in the week, so she asks them for suggestions and will send em off with leftovers if there's extras.

The gang being themselves would be goofing around obviously, until either a store employee has to step in and ask them to calm down or Mrs Curtis shoots the boys a glare that immediately sets them in line. … for the most part at least.

I imagine they’d (mostly two bit or dal) would pick up the most random, vile jar off the shelf and be like “hey can we get some uhhhhh … fermented pig’s foot?” which everyone responds with varying Hell No's and ewws

I've honestly got a ton more ideas but I'll cool it and stop here 😭 plz forgive any grammatical errors etc

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #two bit mathews #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis

[confused-stars]

when i say i would marry this man in a heartbeat-

#genshin #genshin spoilers #neuvillette #this is the best gift i've ever been given by anyone ever actually #also i better see some fanart of him doing ceramics this is the cutest thing that's ever happened in this game #i love that he's allowing himself stuff like this now. and also buying wriothesley ten whole boxes of tea #and carrying shopping bags for all his friends #making wriothesley a joke gift and completely throwing him off for a second #i can't believe lantern rite came out of left field and gave us so much wonderful neuv content #guess it is the year of the dragon

[dirt-str1der]

just wanna say im obsessed with your mind and i read your posts about kiryu like the morning paper. thank you for your service

(Sweats) e-even the ones about him laying eggs ?

#Thanks for the ask ! #HIIIIII thank you for reading my posts im really a serial rambler so that is no easy feat. i just had a lowkey nightmare that was insect #based so its nice to think about different kinds of eggs once in a while. sorry for the eggs i just learned the word gravid and i cant stop #saying it !!! i literally opened tumblr to make another post about kiryu i was gonna say he was probably antisocial in his childhood which #is really a miracle any girls managed to notice him at all. and i believe that he was very dismissive of his clothing and appearance because #you know when youre young and trans and havent realised it but you just randomly hate everything about your appearance and dont even knowwhy #i think his hair was always too long and too shaggy and he would let nishiki comb it sometimes because he really could not stand his mane #and sometimes when it gets wayy too long and shitty the sunflower caretaker would drag him outside and just cut a chunk of it off with a #knife and kiryu would have shoulder length hair for a little while... anyway i need to give him a little girlfriend like how rikiya had one #when he was in school because all trans guys need a little girlfriend or an all girl group of friends to be his girlfriends when hes a kid #so he can carry their shopping bags and wait for them outside the changing room etc and kiryu cant resist a girl so he gets a letter from #nishiki and he tells him yeah this is probably a prank to have you wait there for hours or there might be guys waiting to ambush you and #beat the crap out of you. and kiryus like Nobody beats the crap out of me except our dad. and goes to meet this girl and he actually agrees #to go out with her and this is the thing that keeps him in school because otherwise he would literally not go. like hed walk with yumi and #nishiki and the rest of the kids at sunflower that he doesnt care about to remember the names of. and he would just wave them off at the #gate and wander the town in his school uniform and then after school he’ll meet nishiki and possibly yumi at the gate (yumi probably makes #other friends but its a Must to walk nishiki home because he’ll get lonely) and when kiryu starts going out with this girl hes obligated to #walk her home so he already broke rule one but nishikis like happy for him But he has to walk home with some other random guys now and #eventually theyll broach the topic of ‘his psycho sister’ and nishiki literally has to beat a few guys up to defend kiryus honour and when #he comes back with news of how unpopular kiryu is with the rest of the guys because he looks better with short hair than they do and has a #girlfriend whos super cute. kiryu is just like damn did you commit social suicide to protect my honour? youre my best friend. but whatever #kids get over it fast. but parents dont!! and kiryu walks his girlfriend right to her front door and soon enough her parents are going to #find out that the boyfriend she keeps gushing about is a girl and straight up take her out of school to make her stop being gay and kiryus #like but ... im a boy ... punches the ground and screams to the sky. anyway enough about dysphoria simulator im here to talk about this guy #when hes a bit older because im salivating and shaking over the thought of his bootyass rip kiryu you woulda loved thongs. i think hed hate #ripped jeans but only because he thinks theyre a waste of manufacturing. its literally better for the world that kiryu decided 2 transition #because can you imagine if she was a girl and needed to wear a bra? like she would literally have an itchy back all the time which would #give her a hair trigger temper which means kamurocho a&e room will be very healthily plush indeed. god my battery is dying i need to take a #shower noww anyway really thank you for the nice message you are so sweet ... hi ...

[hotchscvm]

not his girlfriend

You're not his girlfriend, but you're the first person to listen to his ramblings. The first time he realizes, he notices he's been talking for too long without taking a breath, and you're still paying attention to what he's saying. Microbiology. You know nothing about the subject, asking him to clarify stuff while he talks. He's surprised because everyone always stops him.

You're not his girlfriend, but he knows your coffee orders. They're all disgustingly sweet, as the teams point out, but he knows what to get depending on the day. No matter how urgent the briefing is, he goes out of his way to stop at your favorite coffee shop. Every day, you're greeted with a fresh cup of coffee and a smile.

You're not his girlfriend, but he comforts you after emotionally hard cases. You often find yourself in his arms after wrapping up the cases, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to stroke your hair. He'll spend the flight next to you, his pinky resting on your arm as a way to ground you without the rest of the team exchanging glances.

You're not his girlfriend, but you don't leave his side when he gets shot on the field. You hold his hand as the paramedics carry him in the ambulance, and you only let go when they take him into surgery. He wakes with you by his side, his fingers immediately intertwining with yours before he's even fully awake. You smile and tell him he's an idiot for taking that bullet for you. He replies back with a smile and a, "Better for me to be injured than you."

You're not his girlfriend, but he makes sure you're paired up on cases. He goes to shooting practices to prove to Hotch he can be on the field with you, to prove that he can protect you. He does the stuff you don't want to, mostly readings you don't want to spend hours on or bagging up a used condom from the toilet.

You're not his girlfriend, but you go to every nerdy event with him. Whether it's a Spock convention or some nature documentary showing, you're there by his side. No longer does he find the seats next to him empty. Instead, when he looks over, he sees you and smiles, because now he's not alone.

You're not his girlfriend, but his mom thinks you are. When you spend a few days in Las Vegas for a case, you visit his mom with him, meeting her for the first time. She greets you, smiling coyly at her son, asking you if you like dating her son. He spends the next few minutes trying to convince her you're just friends. And the rest of the month trying to convince himself.

You're not his girlfriend, but he kills the man holding you hostage. He's the first to notice you gone, and he's the first to burst through the door, gun out. He doesn't bother talking to the unsub, doesn't bother descaling the situation, doesn't bother to wait for the rest of the team to enter before delivering a bullet through the man's head. He doesn't bother stepping over the body before he unties you and takes you in his arms.

You're not his girlfriend, but he covers you with a blanket when you fall asleep. He turns the TV off, placing a pillow under your head softly, making sure you don't wake up with a sore neck. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, longing in his eyes as he watches you breathe.

You're not his girlfriend, but he wishes you were.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

[ellemj]

Bigger Than He Was

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.

Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.

            You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.

            “They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.”  You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.

            Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.

            “What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.

            “We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.

            You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.

            “Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.

            Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.

            “Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.

            “No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.

            “Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.

            “Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.

---

            Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.

            Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.

            You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.

            I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.

            The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed.  It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.

            “Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.

            “He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.

            “You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.

            “He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”

            “Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.

            “I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”

            “So, you’re going?”

            “I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.

            “We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.

            “What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”

            “I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”

---

            You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.

            Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.

            When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.

            The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.

            “Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”

            “The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.

            “Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.

            The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.

            When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.

            You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.

            “You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.

            “What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.

            “Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”

            “Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”

            “No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.

            “That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.

            “You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.

            “She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.

            “So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.

            “Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.

            “And how do I do that?”

            “For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”

---

            Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.

            He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.

            “So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.

            “Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.

            “Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”

            “A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.

            “Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.

            Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.

            “It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”

---

            Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.

            Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.

            When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.

            “The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”

            “What?”

            “You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.

            “What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.

            “I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”

            “You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”

            “Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.

            Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.

            “Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.

            “If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.

            “If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.

            “If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans.             “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.

            “Right here in this damn parking garage.”

            Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.

            The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.

            “I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.

            “Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.

            Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.

            “You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

            “Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.

            “I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

            “You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.

            “No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”

            He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.

            He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.

There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman,

not really an ask, but I just really wanted to say thank you for creating Good Omens together with Terry because it gave me just about the most bizarre interaction that I have ever had: I was so excited that I started to talk about GO with anyone that would listen. One day at school, I was talking to my friend about it and my science teacher overheard our conversation so he went up to us and said: 'Oh you like Good Omens too? I'm a big fan of the writers' And he proceeded to tell me that he still had some of Terry's books that he had been collection since he was a kid that needed a new home, and so he offered to give me those books (and of course I said yes). A few lessons later he pulled me aside and said: 'Remember when I told you that I still had some Pratchett books...? Well I might have underestimated it a bit' He proceeds to show me two full sized big shopping bags filled to the brim with Terry's books. I was totally flabbergasted. So I went home to the best of my ability with two very heavy bags and started to organize them all...

Turns out that my teacher had gifted me 57 Terry Pratchett books (Including a 2nd edition of GO, which I was very happy with). So now I've got enough reading material for quite some time. Thanks again for creating such a wonderful story that was (somewhat) indirectly responsible for me having back-pain after carrying the backbone of the fantasy genre in two shopping bags.

That put a huge smile on my face.

[sanguineterrain]

YES. BODYGUARD JASON TODD.

He's used to being looked over, just seen as meat & muscle (he doesn't mind, it's part of the job) but you're the first "job" who actually sees him, talks to him, makes him laugh 🫠 he doesn't know what he'll do if someone actually tries to put their hands on you 🙂

hiiii aud thank you for the scrumptious jaybird thoughts <3 so begins my bodyguard!Jason agenda!

bodyguard!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, pining, and tension so thick you could cut it with a batarang.

All fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Y'know, I think you just keep me around to carry your bags."

You grin over your shoulder where the Red Hood trails behind you, always five paces behind. Your takeout bag is in one hand, your new shirts in another. He wears a red mask over the lower half of his face, like always. Only seeing his eyes used to unnerve you, but now it's a comfort, finding his gaze in a crowd.

"That's not true. I also keep you around for something nice to look at," you say.

He tilts his head. Your belly flutters. "Flattery will get you nowhere, trouble."

"Flattery got me outside of my hotel, Red."

He sighs. "Tricking the hotel concierge doesn't count."

You laugh. "Sure it does. I think it does." You stick your arm out. "Will you walk next to me?"

"You know my rule."

"But you can easily cover me if you're next to me! And I'm so good at ducking. See?"

You duck and straighten a few times in a row to demonstrate. A few people stare. You ignore them. Hood's eyes crinkle in a way that tells you he's smiling.

"Mm, incredible technique. Wonder who taught you that. A ruggedly handsome bodyguard, perhaps?"

"Always hungry for the credit," you say. "Despicable."

"Ain't I?"

You turn around and stop. He stops five paces behind. You take a step forward. He takes a step back.

"I wanna see your face when we talk," you say, face pinched.

"Not in public, trouble. It's for your safety. You know that."

"Can't you come a little closer?"

None of your friends are like this with their personal guards. A moment from a friend's birthday party resurfaces.

It's almost like you'd rather be with him than us. You know he's just doing his job, right?

Hood stays exactly where he is. "This is the ideal spot for covering you. Now, c'mon. Thought you wanted to shop."

You sigh and let your arms flop to your sides. He must be nervous today. You can't imagine why.

"Fine. Be that way."

You hurry ahead. Hood doesn't lag behind. Stupid long-legged bodyguard.

"You can be mad at me as long as you stay safe," he says.

You turn again, about to really bitch about how strict he's being. But his proximity stops you short. He's inched closer, so close that you can properly see his eyes.

"This close enough for you?" he asks.

Hood's eyes are warm in the light, mossy and rich. His lashes and brows are dark and thick. Once or twice, you've seen a splash of freckles across his nose. The bridge of his nose is crooked like it's been broken one too many times.

Dear God, you yearn to know him.

Your stomach does more flips. Hood watches you, half-lidded.

"What're y'doing, trouble?"

His voice is soft, the way it gets when he's trying to smooth over a tiff between you. You can't figure out why he does that. You always get over it. And so does he. He has no choice.

"I'm looking at you, Red," you say.

"Yeah? What're y'lookin' at me for?"

"'Cause I want to."

He blinks. "Me? Not much to look at."

You look at each other for another minute. The want bubbles up again, spills out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"Please walk next to me," you say. "I need to know you're there."

He leans in to speak, black curl tumbling over his forehead. He smells sweet, like apples and spice. You almost appreciate the danger in your life because it keeps you in the Red Hood's line of sight.

"Wha's the matter? Y'nervous? I'm right here."

Oh, you're nervous, alright. Just not in the way he thinks. The way you ought to be.

You turn around. For your sake and his.

"Not nervous. Just... just... never mind. You pick where we go next, Red."

"It's your day. 'M just the driver," he says.

"If you won't walk next to me, the least you can do is pick where we go."

"The least I can do, huh?"

It's clear he isn't going to choose. So you watch him instead. You turn the corner and sneak glances over your shoulder. You don't care much about shopping anymore anyway. It's only an excuse to go out. To be alone with him.

Your answer comes. It's only for a split second, but you catch it anyway. He taught you to notice things after all. Says it could be the difference between living and dying.

You immediately change course. Hood follows you easily, and you breeze through the bookstore's entrance. You sneak a look to gauge his reaction. He's looking around, but that could just be him clocking the exits and obstacles. You grab his hand. He looks at your joined hands, then at you.

"Feeling lost?" he asks.

"No. Just trying to keep you present. Nothing’s gonna happen in a bookshop, Red."

That crease in the middle of his forehead returns. "'S my job to plan for the worst. Keeping you safe is the only thing that matters."

"Not the only thing."

His eyebrows rise. "Whaddya talking about? 'Course it is."

You look at your joined hands. This is bad. This is really, really bad. You'd might as well pull your heart out of your chest and let Hood carry that too.

You start to walk, fingers slipping out of his. Hood doesn't try to rejoin them.

He stays closer in here, close enough that you can talk quietly and smell his apple pie scent.

"What do you like to read?" you ask.

Hood glances at you. "Clocked that about me, did you?"

"I was taught by the best," you say sweetly.

He hums. Doesn't joke or laugh. Just makes a soft sound. It's not often you render him speechless.

"I loved Frankenstein as a kid. I always hoped he'd love his monster, but..."

Hood disappears for a moment, lost in his head. You take his hand, heart be damned.

"Red?"

He looks at you again. His eyes are wild. Sometimes, it seems like they glow.

"My... my dad used to read it to me," he says. "One time I asked if he'd love the monster anyway. He promised he would."

You rub his knuckles. He flinches, like he's forgotten where he is. 

"Someone's devotion to our monstrous parts is something we all want," you say.

You spend more time in the bookstore. Hood attracts a few stares, like always, but you're left alone. He carries your shopping without complaint, without strain, and you wonder if your friend was right, if this is just a job.

You buy a special edition of Frankenstein under his attention. Then you turn around and hand him the book. He keeps it under his arm.

"Ready to head back? Y'hungry?"

"That's for you," you say.

"Hm? What is?"

"The book. It's for you, Red."

Silence. The second time that you've stunned the words out of him. You're on a roll.

"Y'don't have to do that," he says, gentle as can be.

"It's a present for you. A thank you."

Hood shakes his head. "You don't need to thank me for protecting you. Just doing my job."

"I'm thanking you for being my friend. Because... you are, right? My friend?"

This time, Hood's eyes on you are heavy. You wonder if he can see your heart beating, see your belly fluttering, see the real reason why you get nervous around him.

"Yeah, trouble," he says, book cradled to his chest like it's precious cargo. "I'm yours."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction #bodyguard jason todd #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd imagine #inbox #blurb

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)

1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:

Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.

Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.

I stopped so they could have their little chat.

2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"

We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)

3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.

So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.

He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.

It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.

4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.

... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.

(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)

5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.

And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"

6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)

7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.

#crawling along #i am so proud of him! #4 years ago i couldn't even touch him let alone halter him let alone... any of this #he's a great donkey. very curious and interested in the world around him especially iced tea bottles

[verstappen-cult]

PETNAMES, M. VERSTAPPEN.

CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, explicit content.

Max likes to call you schat or mijn liefje because you get all flustered every time he speaks Dutch. And says it with a playful smile on his face because he knows the effect that is going to have on you.

Max calls you sweatheart — this is probably the one he uses the most — when he’s teasing you or trying to make you forgive him for something he definitely didn’t do but you’re accusing him of nonetheless; of course he’s not going to ask, he will simply ask for your forgiveness. Also when he’s addressing you and asking something simple as “What would you like for dinner, sweetheart?” or something else like “I think you should use the green dress because it really brings out your eyes, sweetheart.”

Max calls you sweetie to annoy you — you don’t like it, so he makes sure to call you sweetie in front of your friends knowing that you would never call him out for it. But he likes seeing you plaster on a smile while leaning against him, your hand sneaking from behind to pinch him on the side. It hurts, but he likes riling you up too much to care.

Max calls you princess when feeling extra attentive and wants to give you everything. You could ask him to give you the moon and he will find a way to make that possible. It happens when you’re out in Monaco or exploring the different cities he has to travel to for work, most of the time. If he sees you looking at a purse for longer than a minute, he won’t hesitate to ask “Do you want that purse, princess?” and even when he’s carrying so many shopping bags that you think he will complain (he never does), Max still asks “You got everything you wanted, princess? We can keep looking if you want.”

Max calls you love or babe when you’re arguing and he’s stressed and tired and doesn’t want to keep fighting. He will try to calm you both down by saying something like “I’m going for a walk, love. Because I can’t keep doing this.” and he’d grab his keys and go for a walk until it’s safe enough to go back home. The first thing leaving his lips will be a “Hey, babe. Can we talk now?” and then you’d spend the whole night trying to make things right, making promises of communicate better.

Max calls you doll when he feels smitten and wants attention but doesn’t know how to ask for it. But you know what he wants because it is the only occasion he really uses it. It is said with a head held low and blushed cheeks “What you doing, doll?” and you’ll stop what you’re doing immediately, if it’s important you will move things aside to make room for him to cuddle next to you. Other times the word rolls from his mouth like a purr “You look pretty today, doll.” while rubbing his head against your arm like a cat.

Max calls you baby when he’s buried deep inside of you, feeling so good that the only words falling from his lips are praises followed by a baby, baby, baby. He says it desperate, when you are riding him and he wants to buck his hips up, but you told him to be a good boy and wait, and he wants to be good for you so badly. He says it breathless when your walls are squeezing the life out of his cock and your climax is approaching. He says it roughly, demanding, while pushing your head against the pillows and thrusting as deep as he can because “You will take what I give you, baby. If I say you can’t come, then you won’t, you understand?” He says it in a whisper when he’s making love to you, rolling his hips slowly as you feel tears streaming down your face because of how intense everything is, “You’re doing so good for me, baby. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Max Verstappen is an avid petname user, but would most definitely deny it if anyone were to ask him.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smut #f1 grid x reader #max verstappen x you

[celestialprincesse]

🪻💌

More Price being fucking whipped for his wife!!!

nsfw below the cut 🪻 mdni

She's so utterly spoiled by him, like to the point where he'll see her looking at something in a shop window or her ears perk up at an ad on the TVY&? and it's on their doorstep the next day.

When they move into their home together, he refuses to let her lift a finger. He makes her sit on the couch and choose paint samples whilst he builds furniture and brings the boys in to help with the heavy lifting.

He buys her flowers all the time because she likes to keep the house feeling fresh and vibrant. He comes home with takeaway coffees, a patisserie bag between his teeth and a massive bouquet of flowers which match the colours in their home.

Their wedding was fairytale material, held in some beautiful manor in the countryside with all of their friends and family there. Yes, Gaz, Soap and Ghost were his groomsmen.

They go somewhere quiet and warm on their honeymoon - Bali or somewhere similar, where they can spend days soaking up the sun sea and sand.

Something about being a married man just really sets a fire blazing in his belly, and they've barely even got the door to their luxury villa closed when he pounces, going on about how he 'needs to fuck his Mrs.'

Obviously he's wanted to have kids for the longest time, and he sees having two weeks with nothing to do but swim, sunbathe and fuck as the perfect opportunity.

He grips her hand when he's literally balls deep inside, with her on the verge of tears just to look at the way her ring sparkles in the light of the setting sun.

He calls her 'Mrs Price' or 'My Mrs' "My woman' etc whilst they're fucking just to hear the way her mewls get louder and how her pussy flutters around him.

He'll cum inside and then slot a fancy hotel pillow under her hips to make sure that not a drop of potential is wasted. Afterwards he'll order basically the entire room service menu and hop back on the bed to put on her favourite show or movie.

When she does get pregnant, he's practically got an entire nursery built in a day.

He also becomes like a thousand times hornier, something about seeing his woman, knowing she's carrying his child makes him go totally feral.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #captain John price #John price #captain price #price #captain price x f!reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x y/n #price x f!reader #call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #tf 141 #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #john price cod #John price smut #john price x you #Price smut #captain price smut

[jaysgirlx]

living with choso might have just been the best mistake of your entire life. the intended plan was for you to finally get your own place but when you get there the place is in shambles. you got your deposit back when you threatened to get the police involved because the place looked nothing like its pictures.

choso had offered you his spare bedroom time and time again but you couldn't. choso was already such a good friend to you and you just didn't want to impose this on him. but of course, you're not even given a choice to ask him because the moment choso finds out how messed up your new apartment is he's already taken your stuff back to his place.

you're two months in and you realize choso and you had fallen into a pattern. a pattern that you hope won't everbreak. you wake up and choso's already made breakfast for the both of you. he says he's used to it from when he and his brothers used to live together, even though he only makes enough for two.

when you both arrive home from work, you either go out for food or order in and then of course you guys watch movies. "what do you mean you've never seen toy story?!"

"i didn't have much of a childhood, so i haven't seen a lot of movies" he mumbled quiety. for the rest of the night, the two of you had a toy story marathon with tons of snacks (provided by choso of course).

choso knew you loved to snack, so he learned to find your favorites in bulk. anytime you saw you snack on something when you hung out, he would memorize its name so he could buy more. he wanted to make his apartment as comfortable as he could for you. his place was meant to be yours.

sometimes the two of you would fall asleep on the couch together, all cuddled up together. however, it didn't start out like that, at first you would lean on choso's shoulder hoping he wouldn't mind. and eventually, he got annoyed with you just leaning on him and pulled you into his arms. you wanted to protest but you enjoyed it so much that you instead leaned into his body. whenever he'd feel you get comfortable in his arms or his lap he'd whisper "good girl" in your ear. coming from him those words drove you crazy and you wished you could hear them more.

on some nights, after you've both had a long day at work choso tends to carry you back to your room when you fall asleep. he even kisses your forehead and you've caught him doing it and you wish you had the guts to confront him on it so bad but you're happy here. so why risk it?

when choso works late you bring dinner to him and the two of you eat in his office. he always tells you, that you don't have to. that he can bring you dinner instead but when you warn him that you'll nice out he easily shuts up. you guys don't get to watch movies but you do get to talk.

"how's yuji?" you ask him after setting his food on his desk.

"enjoying college life apparently, nobara said they're going to a frat party tonight," he says while chucking.

"do you miss him?"

"why would i miss him when i have you?"

in your mind, there was no way he could've possibly meant that romantically. even after he changed the topic you were still thinking about it, thinking about what he meant and what could be going on in that head of his.

during the weekends, choso spends all his time with you. if you want to go shopping, he pays for everything, buys you lunch, and carries all your bags. he tells you it's in exchange for all the dinners you've bought him even though he's already paid you back for those. and when you get home he helps you try them all and all he can do is compliment you, like you're all his, "these jeans look so fucking good on you, can you only wear them in the apartment? just for me pretty girl?"

and you'd agree to his pleas cause, let's be real you only bought these jeans cause he keep eyeing you in them. and they way he cursed, you knew he wanted you because you felt the exact see way.

maybe living with choso a little longer wouldn't be such a bad idea.

❥ a/n: a little drabble to make up for not posting the college au choso fic yet.

#✩ kleo's kollection ✩ #choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso my beloved #choso x female reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori cameo #nobara kugisaki cameo

[norrisleclercf1]

hi an lando x reader please where he always pretends to propose but never really does and some day he really does❤️

A/N: He's a little shit who'd totally do this, but also I think he'd do this to trick you for when he does the actually one.

'23 British GP

You couldn't help but jump up and down as Lando approaches you. "Oh my god!" You cried, running towards him.

Lando laughs happily and drops his stuff, thankful that Jon is carrying the trophy. Jumping forward, Lando happily takes you into his arms. "Oh, so proud of you." You whisper, not caring your shirt is soaked in champagne.

Lando sets you down and pulls back. He couldn't find the words to convey the emotions running rampant in his head and chest. "Lando, just," You take a breath and he smirks, getting a brilliant idea.

"Y/n," He move getting down on one knee, a small scream leaves your lips as you try to wrap your brain around what he was about to do. "Will you," "Wait!" You cry shaking your head and his smile drops. "I was going to ask if you could help me carry my stuff." He stands back up holding out his helmet.

"Oh," You yank the helmet out of his hands and cradle it to your chest. "What? Did you think," "No," You snap and rush off towards the back as he smirks and follows after you.

'23 Hungarian GP

It was a gentle but romantic night walking around the gorgeous city of Budapest. It was your 3 year anniversary, Lando dressed nicely in an all black outfit with you wearing a matching dress but with one of Lando's jackets on you.

"Budapest is pretty," You whisper, resting your head on his shoulder that has him kissing your temple. "I prefer staring at you," Wrinkling your nose he laughs seeing your reaction.

"It's been 3 years," He admits, crazy how much time has passed between the two of you. "Mhm," Cuddling closer to him, Lando stops and stares at you. Turning you raise an eyebrow, confused as to why he stopped. "You know I love you right?" Lando steps back and gets down on one knee.

Covering your mouth, you try hard not to cry as he stares up at you. "I love you," You gasp, standing up straight now and he leans over and fixes the shoelace of his dress shoe and stands right back up.

"Good, let's get to our reservation." He tries hard not to laugh at your deadpan face as he leads you to the restaurant.

'23 Singapore GP

You knew how special this podium was to him. Not only did he fight like hell to keep the Mercedes back, but he also got a podium with one of his best friends and old teammate. Something they used to talk about all the time.

Carlos noticing you, runs over and hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek as the McLaren crew slaps his shoulders and screams loudly. "Lando, behind me!" He yells and soon turns hugging Charles.

"Lando!" The crew yells and your boyfriend run over but stops seeing Carlos. They both hold their arms out before hugging one another. Laughing you watch as his eyes connect with yours.

Letting Carlos go, he runs over telling Adam he got another podium before ripping his helmet off and pulls you in for a kiss. "Marry me!" He yells, but you can't hear anything over the Ferrari and McLaren crew. "What?" Lando's smile grows as he leans in. "I said, I love you." Pulling back as he gets pulled away for the post race interview.

Winter Break

Your friends were over hearing about Lando's joking proposals and how you really did want a real one. It was bugging you, hating how he was taking it as a joke when you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.

Sigh, you tap your foot as you let the elevator take you up to Lando and yours shared apartment. Lando and you were getting ready to go skiing with some friends, so you were coming back from shopping.

The doors ding open and you head to the front door. "Babe, home." You call and haul your bags through the door. "Lando?" You call, getting annoyed when he doesn't answer you.

"Lando!" You yell, and drop your bags and turn, freezing. Lando was surrounded by candles and rose petals as he was down on one knee holding a ring. "Lando," You choke on your words covering your mouth.

"I know you've thought the last 3 times were for real, but this time it is. I kept thinking what you would want when this came time for it. And I realized that, it just being the two of us and small gesture would be perfect, so," Lando takes a deep breath.

"Y/n L/n, will you marry me?" You don't even pay attention to the ring as you fling yourself into his arms crying as you nod your head in agreement. "Yes, fuck yes." Lando laughs and places the ring down as he holds you close.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris oneshot #lando norris one shot #lando norris x female reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x yn #lando norris mclaren

[familyvideostevie]

day after tomorrow

joel miller x reader

summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 

warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k

A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3

___

He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 

"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 

Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 

"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.

The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 

"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 

"You remembered?" 

He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."

It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.

"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."

This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 

The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 

"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 

You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 

Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.

"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.

"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."

"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"

He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.

"I'll be fine, Joel."

"Hm."

He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.

"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 

He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."

"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 

He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"

You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 

It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  

"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 

When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 

"Thank you for --"

"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 

You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"

His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 

"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."

"Thanks for the tea --"

"Now, what did I just say?"

You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 

"Safe flight, sweetheart."

You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 

6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?

You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 

6:05 am: don't text and drive!

He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 

6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land

6:06 am: will do. have a good day!

The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 

You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 

"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.

That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 

And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 

But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 

7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?

He texts back immediately. 

7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.

You laugh and do as he says. 

The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 

You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 

But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.

10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim

That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 

You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!

And then there's Joel.

Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 

It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.

"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 

"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."

"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 

"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."

Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 

Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 

"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 

"You hungry?"

"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"

"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."

"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"

Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 

"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.

You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 

Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.

"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

[dante-mightdie]

bimbo!gf with simon that actually has no clue wtf he does. "i'm military" he says to someone one day and her response is "huh!! who knew :)" but he can't be mad because her job isn't to know things

what a lovely couple

c/w: suggestive content, nothing graphic, this sucks icl

he shoots you an unimpressed look, not saying anything else in the brief conversation you have with your friend you bumped into. instead he focused on carrying all of your shopping bags and withholding all of his sarcastic comments, knowing one of them will send you straight into a strop

“you didn’t know I was in the military?”

he asks when you’re both alone together again. you make a face, shrugging your shoulders as you reapply your lipstick

“does it matter?”

he scoffs in response, his brain running with a million questions as he watches you prance in and out of shops with his bank card. “kind of, did you not wonder why I walk around in camouflage and a mask? did you think the dog tags were fake?”

“I thought it was just your look!” you whine, stomping your foot a little. “like an aesthetic or something…”

he can’t help but laugh, taking the next set of shopping bags that you hand him. the only thing in your hands being your phone and an iced coffee. he shakes his head at you slightly, “what am I gonna do with you, eh? need to knock you down a few pegs when we get in.”

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #bimbo!reader